Jail Time
by Rebarbative
Summary: If Morgan the Vampet hadn't helped Darren escape from prison, how would that have effected the course of events? T for violence and language
1. Darren's Tale

**Hello! This is Rebarbative here with a new story. I was reading the ninth book in the Cirque du Freak saga, and I thought: "What if Darren hadn't been able to bust out of prison? And what did the police find in those blood samples they took?" So, here is a story of what might have happened if Morgan never existed. (He was the undercover vampet who aided in Darren's escape)." **

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed**

**Here goes nothing!**

**"**"It's a break out!" Con shouted.

"Which one?" Dave yelled, jumping up. "Crepsley? Mulds?

"Neither," Con gasped. "It's the hostage- Steve Leonard!"

"Leonard?" Dave repeated uncertainly. "But he's not a prisoner. Why should he want to break-"

"I don't know" Con shouted. "Apparently, he regained consciousness a few minutes ago, took stock of the situation, then murdered a guard and two nurses."

The color drained from Dave's face, and William McKay almost dropped his rifle.

"A guard and two…" Dave murmured.

"That's not all," Con said. "He's killed or wounded another three on his way out. They think he's still in the building."

Dave's face hardened. He started for the door, then remembered me, paused, and looked back over his shoulder.

"I'm not a killer," I said quietly, staring him straight in the eye. "I'm not the one you want. I'm on your side."

This time, I think he half believed me**" **(Shan 67-68)

Dave and Con left the room, leaving William McKay and me alone in the cell together. He stared at me warily and kept his hand firmly on his gun.

"Don't you dare try any funny business. Just because Dave thinks you might be innocent, doesn't mean the rest of us do," he said seriously, switching the safety off on his gun as if to prove a point.

I just sighed and wondered what Steve was doing. I still couldn't believe that he was in cahoots with the Vampaneze Lord. He was my best friend. How could he have turned out so evil?

Minutes drug by and I slowly started to fall asleep. I caught myself before my head banged into the table. I needed to stay alert in case McKay tried any to pull anything while I slept.

Eventually, Dave and Con returned. Both officers looked like they had aged a few years. They sat down in their chairs and looked at me with tired eyes.

"Why did Leonard break out?" said Con. "Why did he kill those nurses and guards?"

"I told you, you don't know what he is, what he's done."

"Well, why don't you tell us?" remarked Dave.

"You wouldn't believe me if I did."

"Damn it boy!" yelled Con, smashing his fist on the table. "He just _killed _five people! I want answers and I want them now!"

I just shook my head and sighed. Con looked like he wanted to press me more on the subject, but Dave held him back.

"Darren, please tell us what is going on. We should receive information on what Crepsley and Mulds are tomorrow, but we'd rather not wait that long" he said in a soft, pleading voice.

"Personally, I want to know what _he _is," said William by the door. "No normal sixteen year old boy could have survived a five story jump."

The other two officers seemed to let this stew in their minds for a second.

"That's true," said Dave "But he shows up on film, unlike Crepsley. Maybe we need to get him tested too."

I stiffened at this, which did not go unnoticed.

"What's wrong boy? Worried about what we'll find?" said Con with a smirk. "Let's call up one of the nurses who survived to take his blood."

As Con walked out of the room, I slowly calmed my mind. They already had Mr. Crepsley's blood, what damage could mine add to the mix? A few minutes later, Con walked back in with a terrified man behind him. The man looked like he was in his twenties, and probably thought I would kill him if he took my blood. I rolled my eyes.

"No need to be scared son," said Dave, making the boy jump. "We've got him cuffed and Mr. McKay will handle it if he tries any funny business."

The boy nodded, even though he still looked like he wanted to wet himself, and put his medical kit down on the table. He opened the kit and took out a set of syringes and some bandages.

"Where should I... uh you know..." said the boy nervously.

"On his arm is fine," said Con. "Boy, stick out your arm," he addressed me in a much less gentle tone.

I did as he said and watched the young nurse as he picked up the first syringe. He flinched when he noticed I was staring at him, and I gave him a reassuring smile. He must not have found my smile very reassuring, because he paled even more when he saw it. I tried to hold back a laugh. I wasn't sure if his fear was funny or depressing. I'd never really had a human look at me like that before.

"Go on now, he can't hurt you," said Dave.

He walked up to me and put the tip of the needle near the crease in my arm. He went to prick the vein, but his hands were shaking so much that he missed. I hissed when the needle stabbed into my arm. It hadn't hurt much, but it surprised me. The boy jumped back and looked at me with terrified eyes.

"S-S-Sorry," He said, probably thinking that I was going to eat him.

"It's fine. Just do the other arm," I said, startling him. I hadn't spoken since he had entered the room.

He walked over to my other side and this time, with much steadier hands, managed to draw a vial of blood. Then, much calmer since he figured out I wouldn't hurt him, he proceeded to bandage my arms. He left the room with a hurry after the police thanked him and went to send my blood who-knows-where. After he left, Con decided it was time for a break.

"It's nighttime. I'm tired and you're tired. I say we call in the night guard and pick this back up tomorrow morning."

"Okay," I said, mentally cursing the unknown night guard. It seemed like Vancha would have to face the Vampaneze guard singlehandedly. I wished him luck and waited for the officers to bring me a cot to sleep on.

…

I woke with a start after hearing a loud noise. The first thought that went through my mind was, _Vampaneze_! I had jumped out of my cot, (completely forgetting where I was) and the force that I used to move snapped my cuffs.

"Don't move!" Harold Newton, the night guard, yelled.

I immediately froze once I saw the gun pointed at my chest.

"Sorry," I said with a grimace (no way an apology could help my situation now!). "I forgot where I was and I panicked. That loud noise startled me"

Just then, Con, Ivan and Dave busted through the door.

"We heard shouting and thought you might have needed some help," Con said.

"Thanks," replied Harold.

"Well, what happened, and why are his cuffs broken?" inquired Dave.

"Well he _was_ sleeping, but then I dropped my cell phone. The noise _startled _him soo bad that he jumped out of his cot and snapped his cuffs like they were made out of paper."

"Boy, if you knew you had the strength to snap those cuffs all along, why didn't you break them earlier?" inquired the soft spoken Ivan.

"What would you have done?" retorted Con. "He was obviously waiting for the right moment to escape. Why give away his strength when we could recapture him. Speaking of.. Harold, find some thicker cuffs. The thickest you can get. Tell the other officers to do the same with Crepsley."

Harold walked out, which gave me the opportunity I had been waiting for. With him gone, the police were left without a gun. I smiled once I knew the night guard was too far away to help.

"Well boys...," I began, "It seems like it's just us now. Three humans without a gun vs. one angry vampire..." Well.. Technically it was three humans and a half vampire. But they didn't need to know that!

The three men paled when they realized their predicament, but then they realized that it was three to one. What harm could a skinny fifteen year-old do to three fully grown men? They each came at me from a different angle. I smiled. I hated looking evil, but maybe if I scared them enough they would be too scared to fight.

Con and Dave came at me first. Ivan was older so he was their backup. Dave lunged at me with his arms outstretched. I simply hit him on the side of his head with my fist. One down, two to go! Con learned from Dave's mistake and sent a sharp kick to my head. Any normal human wouldn't have been able to block it, but I was half-vampire. I grabbed his leg and pushed, wincing when I heard a loud crack. He wouldn't be walking on that leg for a while. Two down, that left.. Ivan. He was backing away slowly, hoping to make it out the door before I noticed. What a coward. I simply moved to fast for him to see and knocked him out.

Then I focused on how to break out. The fight had only lasted a few seconds, so I should have plenty of time. I looked up to the celling. Trying that route first seemed safest. I crouched and gathered as much energy as I could and sprang at the celling.

"Charna's Guts!" I yelled.

The force that my head took nearly knocked me out. So I turned and looked at the door. It might have been thinner than the wall, but it lead straight to the belly of the beast. I'll have to go through the wall. I sighed and turned to the damned thing. Well here goes nothing. I dug my nails into the wall and crumbled it. Hmm. I guess I can dig most of the way.

I repeated the process and gouged a huge hole in the wall until it t was about two and a half feet deep and about the same width around. I jumped up and kicked at the weakened wall. The last foot or so fell out with a large cracking noise. I winced. That foot would be bruised tomorrow. I then crawled out of the hole and made my way to freedom. I wondered if Mr. Crepsley and Harkat got away yet, and how Vancha fared at the fight last night. As I pondered this, I ran into the city, hoping to find shelter in its depths.

…

"You saw _what_!" exclaimed Gerald Pickett after hearing Con's story.

"Well first, the boy dug into the walls with his nails-"began Con.

"I heard you the first time boy, but what I want to know is; _how?_"

"I don't know sir, especially since our blood samples disappeared this morning. If you don't believe me, simply watch the surveillance tapes from his room."

"I will. Send word to the news that the Shan boy escaped too. The others got away last night," Pickett said with a gruff tone.

"Yes Sir", replied Con.

…

Well, I know it is not very much, but I hope it entertained at least one of you!I might do a sequel on what happened to Mr. Crepsley and Harkat, but only on request! If you can figure out what happened to the blood samples and why Darren couldn't go through the ceiling, I have some warm bat broth for you! Leave your answers in the comments.

Ta, Ta!

~Rebarbative


	2. The Benefits of Looking like

**At the request of a few readers, I have decided to continue this story. This part will start from the beginning of the capture, since there is no back story. Here is Harkat's tale! **

**Disclaimer: Take off the r and replace it with a d.. **

Chapter Two

"The Benefits of Looking like Frankenstein's Monster"

Two wary policemen watched me from across the room. They had taken off my cuffs at my request and had not come near me since. One of the policemen had a gun, and the other was fingering the crucifix necklace around her neck. They hadn't spoken to me much, but they had told me their names: Cathy Crumbs and Wilson White.

"Soo.. What the hell are you?" Wilson, the bolder of the two said, as an attempt to start a conversation.

"Well… I used to look… normal.. like you.. but then I got a disease… and my skin shriveled up… and I had to stitch it.. back together," I rep**lied **with a Cheshire cat grin.

"This disease," said Cathy, "It's not contagious is it?"

I was surprised that they even remotely believed that lie, but I managed to get out; "Yes.. it is very.. contagious. Even short exposures.. can be deadly."

They blanched at that and raced for the door. They moved so fast if I didn't know better, I would have thought they were vampires! After they left I fell into a fit of laughter. I laughed so hard that I might have busted a stitch. Literally!

Hours passed as I sat in the corner of that filthy cell. My original plan had been to break out when one of the others had, but I didn't know if I should wait. At any time some officer could barge in and hinder my escape efforts. I looked around, and then up. The ceiling! I stood on the table in the middle of the room and jumped, putting my fist over my head to protect it. It worked! I had made it through! Then, I had to find my way out of there. I climbed across the thick wooden rafters and tried to find my way to the edge of the building. When I finally found an edge wall, I realized just finding the wall was too simple. The wall was thick concrete. It was much too thick for me to bust through while lying in a foot and a half tall space.

I looked around and thought up Plan B. I'd have to find a window of some sort, which was not likely to be in any cell. I would have to find an office or a hallway. Suddenly I heard chaos. There was a blood curling scream followed by many yells. I wondered if they had discovered my disappearance.

I crawled over to where the scream had sounded and listened.

"I just walked in here and found them dead!" a woman lamented. "The hostage-Steve Leonard- is gone too. He must have been kidnapped, but by who?"

I knew that Steve had probably personally killed those people but they didn't. I followed the footsteps of the man who was with her (judging by the weight of his footsteps) to a room with lots of buzzing noises.

"Let's watch the footage from the last half hour in Leonard's room," said the man I had followed.

I heard a weird sound and then a click (the tape rewinding if I had to guess). Then I heard hospital-ly sounds and the pleasant voices of a woman and man conversing.

"He seems to be in fine health" said the man. "In fact, he should wake up any minute."

"That's great!" replied the woman. "Maybe he can tell us what happened to him and Mark. " (the vampet).

I felt pity for these two since I knew their fate. It's one thing to kill an enemy, but to kill someone who wants to help you? Steve_ must _be pure evil. Sure enough, a few minutes later the leopard woke up.

"Look Marty he's awake!" said the female nurse. "Hello Mr. Leonard. My name is Macey. I know it's scary waking up in a strange place, but you're in the hospital wing of the police sta-"

She never got to finish, because at that moment Steve made his move. There was a sharp _click! _noise followed by a sharp yell which was followed by another, much louder crack. The policeman seemed to be at a loss for words, but eventually he found his bearings.

"FIND LEONARD AND DETAIN HIM NOW!" he yelled, addressing any officers in hearing range. "DO NOT LET HIM LEAVE THE BUILDING! USE FORCE IF NECESSARY! I REPEAT! FIND LEONARD AND DETAIN HIM!"

Glad that the ruckus cause by Steve was distracting the police from my actions, I continued on my quest for a window. I found a room where I could hear some noise from outside. _There must be a thinner wall or a window. _I busted through the ceiling and landed in the office of a _very _surprised looking policeman. I recognized him from the capture. I think he was the assistant chief- or something like that.

I took haste and knocked him out before he could let out the scream that he had been building up. Whew, that was a close one. I looked to the wall on my left. A window! I ran to it and pushed it open with a little effort. I jumped out of the window and braced myself for landing. I was only two stories up so I took the landing easily.

Now.. time to find Vancha.

**Hello! Sorry that this one was kinda short, but I **_**do **_**plan on continuing with Mr. Crepsley's story! His might be a tad longer because his character is more developed in the story. As for the mysteries in the last chapter… Well you know how he jumped up right after the fight? He wouldn't have been in the same spot as the original, so I decided to make it interesting. He hit his head on a rafter! **

** As for the blood, a certain Mr. Des Tiny wouldn't want humans getting ahold of vampire blood before their time to, would he? I think that could have actually happened in the books, because if scientist **_**did **_**get to examine their blood, it would have caused chaos. **

**This chapter's mystery is: What happens in the fight without Mr. Crepsley and Darren? Leave your thoughts in the review area!**

**Lots of love and guts**

**~Rebarbative **


	3. Cool as a Cucumber

**Here is Chapter three, the the final chapter dedicated to our favorite jailbirds! Mr. Crepsley is one of my favorite characters from Cirque du Freak (along with Darren and Vancha. What can I say, I love the the hunters!), so I give you permission to submerge me in acid if I OOC him! **

**(Ps. Instead of him injuring his ankle in the fall like the regular series, I took the the idea from the manga where he gets shot instead.)**

Chapter Three

"Cool as a Cucumber"

_Bloody Humans, _I thought as they drug me to the hospital area of their infernal prison. The shot I had taken to my leg was not fatal, but it would hinder my efforts in stopping that damn Vampaneze Lord. I was not worried about my escape. I had learned how to sneak out of handcuffs such as these long before I was a vampire, back when I first stayed with the Cirque. Dealing with the policemen was another matter entirely. I had decided that silence was the best way to handle my predicament, and I prayed to the gods that Darren did the same.

They took me into a room that smelled to the high heavens like antiseptics. To my vampire senses it was pure torture. It felt as if they had poured straight bleach into my nostrils. The policeman, who had been holding a gun to my back, led me to what looked like a combination of a bed and a chair. I had been hopping on my uninjured leg since I left the apartment, but now I was able to relax it. A nurse cut away my pant leg, and gasped when he saw the extent of my injury. I snorted. The wound was merely a scratch for a vampire.

"Macey, get me a tourniquet so we can get this bleeding stopped!" said the middle aged nurse. "Sir, will you be alright while I fetch the doctor?"

I just glared at the man. Of course I would be fine. I would be even better if they had not taken me to this wretched prison in the first place. If they had cared so much about the state of my health, why make me walk up a flight of stairs while wearing shortened leg and hand cuffs? The cur blanched at the heat in my gaze and walked out of the room.

Now that I was alone I could study my surroundings. The room was small, blindingly white, windowless, and had one concrete wall. I assumed that the concrete wall was part of the outer perimeter of the building, while the two plaster covered walls (on each side of me) separated my room from those that were adjacent to mine. The third wall obviously led to the hallway, and would be the fastest route of escape. I did not know whether the door was locked or not (the imbeciles probably thought I was too injured to escape), but if luck was with me, it would not be.

Speaking of injuries, it was time to tend to mine. I examined the wound. It was a clean shot. The bullet went straight through the muscle, sparing the bone. Good. Flesh wounds I could deal with. A broken bone would take days to heal, especially a bone as large as the one in my calf. I rubbed spit into the wound, hoping to stanch the bleeding so that the doctor would not have to use a tourniquet.

After I finished administrating my saliva to my wound, a short and plump man with polished shoes walked in. Following behind him was an armed officer. The last man who walked in had to be the doctor. He was wearing the typical white scrubs, face mask, and stethoscope. I looked back to the first man who entered the room. He seemed familiar. His official appearance and the briefcase he toted with him seemed to pull at my memory.

"Mr. Blaws, is this the man who claimed his name was Vur Horston?" said the gruff looking officer.

Ah! This man was the annoying school inspector that sent Darren to that accursed school. Memories of his visit reignited my annoyance at his interference. And here he was! Sticking his nose where it does not belong once again! When this madness with the Vampaneze Lord was finished, I would return and teach this man some manners.

"Oh yes" said the infuriating man. "I quite remember him. He had a very rude attitude when I met with him about sending young Darren to Mahler's. He also asked some very strange questions when I showed him Darren's admission papers."

"Do you have the forms with you at the moment?" replied the officer. "What does it have on Vur? Or Larten for that matter," he added as an afterthought.

"I sent the forms to the man who was at the front desk. He said he will make copies of the forms and return the originals to me. But, the information I had on him wasn't much. It has his birth certificate; easily forgeable, his work place; the local slaughterhouse, and your other basic information. Not much to go on, but it could be helpful."

"Thank you sir," said the officer. "I'll be sure to pick up a copy. I believe they need you down in cell 208. The little murderer is waiting there for you."

"It is no problem. I must hurry on now, places to go, things to do," said the school inspector.

"I understand."

And with a look of disgust and a lift of the nose, the little man left the room. The doctor and policeman then decided to turn their attention to me.

"Horston, this man is Dr. Wilhite. He is to see to your injuries. No funny business. I have permission to shoot to kill if you mess with any of us," said the officer, pointing at his gun and puffing out his chest like a young rooster given control of the henhouse.

I simply rolled my eyes. I was not idiot enough to harm someone who would actually be _helping _my escape. The administrations from the doctor and my own saliva would have the wound healed by sundown, given I did not have to use it. The doctor approached my bed and cut away the remaining pant pieces on my injured leg and examined it with a professional eye. I quietly thanked the gods that the nurse never returned with the tourniquet. He reached for a bottle of some sort of cleansing fluid. I did not know what it was, because I still had not taken the time to become literate. But, I knew that whatever it was, would sting.

Sure enough, when the cloth that held the medicine on it touched my leg, I had to bite back a groan of pain. The doctor and policeman probably would have enjoyed my pain, so I gave them no such satisfaction. The slight frown that appeared on the face of the doctor confirmed my suspicions. These men believed I was some sort of monster and should be put out of my misery. I had to agree with them somewhat. My life was full of darkness, and I believed there was no hope for my soul. It was too damaged to be repaired, no matter the extent of my good deeds.

The doctor proceeded to stitch my leg back together, a gruesome task. No matter how neat his stitch work was, my leg would end up having a scar to compete with the one on my face. Many minutes passed before the doctor finished closing the wound on my leg. After that he examined some minor cuts that I had received fighting in the tunnels earlier. When he saw none that required stitching, he told the doctor that I was clear to go.

"Alright Horston," said the unnamed officer. "Let's take this freak show into your nice, new cell."

He prodded me to my feet with the rifle gun he had been holding.

"If you try to run, I won't hesitate to fire. You're treading thin ice already, especially with your little friend kidnapping our chief."

"Hmph" came out of my mouth as a reply.

Speaking of Vancha, I wondered how the red-skinned prince was faring. If my leg did not heal before sundown or if my escape was delayed, he would have to lead the fight himself. Darren and Harkat were both decent fighters, but neither were as experience as many of the vampaneze in the tunnels.

The officer led me into a simple cell, about the size of my hospital room, but with all concrete walls. In this room the ceiling seemed to be the best escape route. I examined the rest of the room. A small video camera resided in one corner of the room. I snorted at the useless device and looked to the center of the room.

A table dominated the center of the room. It seemed that this would be the place where I would be interrogated. There were three policemen waiting in the room. One stood by the door with a rifle, one at the far side of the table, next to an empty chair, and one across the table from the empty chair. I presumed the empty chair was for me. I walked over to the chair, with a scowl, and glared at the policeman across from me. The gruff man who had led me here walked out of the room, closing the door with a resounding click.

"You must be Larten Crepsley" said the officer, returning my glare. "My name is Greg Sanders, and the officer next to you is Matt Downy. We are the holders of your freedom, your food supply, and your comforts. Answer our questions and we'll make your life more comfortable. Not too comfortable though. No nasty murderers deserve comfort."

"Now Greg, let's not use threats when they aren't needed. Crepsley- or Horston- seems pretty intelligent."

_Hmph_. I may not watch much television, but even_ I_ knew the good cop, bad cop stereotype. Matt was here to persuade me into confessing and Greg was here to make Matt look better. Even if I was planning to speak, I was not fool enough to fall for such tactics.

"So, for starters, what is your real name?" inquired Matt. "It's confusing for us to not know what to call you."

I stayed silent.

"I think murdering ginger would be a good name," said Greg, trying to goad me into talking.

I stayed silent.

"So, carrot head, how old are you?" said Greg, trying to insult me again.

I stayed silent.

"Where do you come from?" asked Matt.

I stayed silent.

Questioning continued like this for hours. Question after question was asked, none of which were answered. Suddenly, an interruption came in the form of shouting. The halls filled with officers, yelling orders at each other. I stiffened when I head what the commotion was about. Steve Leonard had escaped the hospital wing of the prison. If I had known I was so close to that treacherous, evil bastard I would have made an end of him. As it was, I was infuriated at myself for sparing the boy. I should have killed him years ago, in that theater. A lot of my problems would not exist if that irritating Steve Leopard did not exist.

One of my inquisitors left, leaving just Greg and the armed officer, who resumed questioning, this time adding questions about Leonard into the mix. I rolled my eyes and slipped back into my patient shell of boredom, filled with repetitive questions and the constant whir of the recording device on the table.

Hours later, the policemen decided to turn in for the night. They sent in not one, but three armed guards to watch over me that night. The most likely cause for the precautions they took was the myths that involved vampires being strongest at night. They rolled in a cot for me to sleep on. It was stiff and uncomfortable. I preferred a nice coffin over a bed any day, but I did not have much choice in the matter.

With three guards training their guns on me at all times, an escape attempt would be unwise. I wished luck to Vancha, and any of the others who may have escaped, luck. I took the time to sleep, unusual as it was, to prepare for the trying day that is called tomorrow.

…

I awoke with the rising of the sun, feeling its dangerous energy. I looked around the cell. Five officers now stood attentive, setting off alarms in my head. One of the others must have escaped to cause such high paranoia in these men. One of the officers noticed I was awake and decided to begin questioning.

"How did the Darren boy manage to dig through a wall?" said the officer.

Ah, my assistant had made his move. I wondered if he had made it in time to help Vancha, or if he had just escaped.

"Answer me Crepsley!" he said, turning his gun on me.

"Well he most likely used a shovel, but it is possible that he used a spoon, or even a fork," I replied, breaking my silence.

It was time to… what was the phrase? …Bust out of this joint. As the guard puffed up in anger, I stealthily used static to unlock my cuffs. My hands were free, but I had no way to undo my leg cuffs without alerting the policemen.

Then I decide to make my move. I jumped up from my cot, jerking my leg cuffs in hopes they would break. No good. They were still intact. No matter, I could defeat these baboons cuffed _and_ blindfolded. The two closest to me were simple to take out. I simply breathed the knock out gas of the vampires into their faces and watched them crumble. The other three were too surprised by my sudden movements to act. The middle one blinked stupidly at his fallen comrades and my free hands, hands which proceeded to knock him out.

The other two had time to recover. One raised his gun while the other dove at me. The gunman fired, not realizing the intentions of the other officer. The shot hit the man in the stomach, splattering me with his blood. I did not even blink. The other officer dropped his gun, horrified at what he had done. I took mercy on him and simply knocked him out with my breath.

I had to escape quickly; the shot would bring other officers to my cell. I tried the door, which the idiots had not thought to lock. I ran out into the hallway which was, thankfully, clear. I had memorized the path from the stairs to the hospital, then from the hospital to my cell, a path which I was now retracing. Hopefully my roundabout path was clear and confused any officers attempting to catch me. I reached the stairs with no problem and raced down to the first floor. There, blocking the entrance, were several policemen. I ran towards them and ignored their cries of warning. I jumped over the guards, who were too stunned to shoot, and broke through the thick glass door. I sustained several scratches (none life-threatening) and tried to work up to flitting speed. A few bullets came at me, (which I easily dodged) and then I began to flit. I had to find one of the others, if any were still left alive. I made the sign of death and continued running under the dreadful, unforgiving sun.

…

**Congratulations to Cat attack 411! He figured out the the mystery from the last chapter. If Darren wasn't there, how would they have figured out the code? Vancha and Harkat are most likely illiterate, and Alice doesn't know the nickname Steve Leopard. So technically, the the fight never happened. Debbie would have been killed by R.V. (there you go anti-Debbie fans!) in place of Mr. Crepsley being killed by Steve, so Darren would have still been depressed. Instead of Debbie and Alice going to the the mountain, Mr. Crepsley and Alice would have gone. (I'm kinda pulling a Mr. Tiny here; Same events, but different people). The only plot thing that I cannot think of a way to fix, is how they figure out who the true Lord of the Vampaneze is. If you have an idea, please tell me. Also, I am thinking about doing a HP/CDF crossover. I have read a few, and most ooc Darren sooo bad. As for parings.. 15 year-olds and 28 year olds should never date.. ugh... **

Here is a short little bonus to apologize for taking so long to post this! Enjoy!

I looked over to the strange man who kept claiming he was a vampire prince. If I hadn't been bound and gagged, I would have attacked my captor a long time ago. Who did this murderer think he was, prancing around like some great king, like he owned the cavern we were residing in? So what if he had a few big muscles to boast about? He had _green_ hair for Pete's sake! Not to mention those filthy hides of his, which were poorly died a fading purple.

"Wait my dear" said the disgusting man. "I think I hear someone. Don't move because it may be a vampaneze."

There he goes talking about mysterious fairy tale creatures again. As he puffed out his chest and stalked off like some important solider, I rolled my eyes. He was _so _arrogant! I debated whether I should use this time to make noise and hopefully attract help. Sadly, I had no time to fulfill my plan, because the murderer soon returned, laughing and smacking a small silhouette on the back. When they got closer I realized it was one of the other killers! I instantly reddened with rage. When I escaped, boy these men were going to be in a world of pain..

"So they really believed you had to stitch your skin back together?" hooted the red man.

"Yeah... you should have... seen them... run!" said the small man, laughing as well.

I looked at the small, bald, grey… man? He was even uglier up close. He had several sharp teeth jutting out in a sick form of a smile. I could easily see this monster tearing up that poor school girl.

"We've still got a few hours till sundown," said March. "Should we help Darren and Larten escape?" He seemed to think about it for a second and said, "Nah. They're big boys, they can handle themselves. Let's warm up for the fight."

"Alright.. let me get my…" began Mulds, until a horrified expression, "I don't.. have my axe."

"Well lucky for you, those idiots left their fallen comrade's weapons."

He reached into a pile of weapons that I had watched him collect earlier and pulled out a medieval looking axe. He handed it to the grey-thing and took up a battle pose.

…

The hours I spent as a hostage went by surprisingly fast. I had watched the two murderous fiends duel for an hour or so, before they grew bored and decided to rest. It was now midnight, the scheduled time for them to leave to go to their oh-so-important fight, and apparently they were dragging me along with them. They had armed me with a gun and out of simple curiosity I hadn't shot them. I wanted to see these fabled purple skinned monsters they had been talking about.

We descended further into the cavern we were in until we came to an obstacle. It was a door, not unlike one to a bank vault, and had a code lock on it.

"Any ideas on how to get past this?" inquired the infuriating Vancha March.

"No… But it seems.. that we need.. a code.. to get inside.." said a weary looking Harkat Mulds.

"And you, Miss Alice?"

"It is a twelve letter code. Most likely one where you translate numbers into letters."

"Well this stinks. I can't read or write. What about you Mulds?"

"I haven't.. taken the time.. to learn. I might.. have been able.. to when I.. was alive.. but I can't now."

"Well it seems like we're stuck between a rock and a hard place," I said after a moment of silence.

Suddenly a man descended from the ceiling and, to my utter surprise, he was purple! He glared at Vancha, Harkat, and me.

"My lord says that he does not wish to fight only one hunter. He believes it would be a waste of the time and effort he put into his cavern. He says to return when your whole bloody team is intact," he said with a mad cackle. "Also, the dark skinned lady dies!"

With that, the rope he descended with was pulled up, removing the terrifying man from my sight. Vancha scowled and led the way out of the cavern, into the dark cool sky. It seemed I had been wrong about these men.

"March," I said softly. "Tell me what I can do to help end those purple beasts."

-Blood and Guts,

Rebarbative


End file.
